In the heart of a lonely city (I'll never wander sad and alone)
by AquaRias
Summary: Bruce has left Gotham and everything he knew behind after Bane. Tony is having a hard time adjusting to being part of a team. When a case brings Bruce to New York no one is more surprised then him at the connection that forms between him and Tony Stark -but all good things are made to be broken, and neither one of them is really any good at these sort of things. SLASH


AN: I'm baaaack! Just with a quickie this time, a four part little 20K Batman/Avengers x over. No worries with me not finishing this one, it's done, working on sequel as I type. Apologies to people waiting on updates of other fics, still no progress there to speak of, but hope you enjoy this one.

See "Lonely city" by John Leyton, it's the song that sort of inspired this.

Warnings: As always, slash. Light in this one, won't be so light in the sequel though.

_In the heart of a lonely city (I'll never wander sad and alone)_

_PART ONE_

He was in France when he saw it; it had been one year since his disappearance from Gotham following the explosion of the nuclear bomb. He had stuck around just long enough to collect Selina, and had left his home behind forever, with no regrets. He and Selina had parted ways after just a few months; she had wanted what he could never give her. Despite her best efforts to make amends he had never truly been able to forgive her, and he was reminded of her betrayal every day that she spent by his side as they made their way through Europe. Until the day came that he finally confronted her, and she had finally left, and he was finally on his own. He heard from her from time to time, she always included a return address and she always hinted that if he ever changed his mind he knew where to find her. He doubted he ever would – he had found more peace travelling alone then he ever had in her company in the months before. He didn't need anyone, he was happy on his own. And so, alone, he had been wandering through Paris when he had caught the tail end of a broadcast that immediately captured his interest.

"-_And crossing live to Gotham now, we have the Police Commissioner Gordon with further details on this case. Commissioner Gordon, what more can you tell us about the disappearance of Nightwing?"_

"_Well, not much more to tell you the truth." _Gordon sighed wearily, Bruce absently thinking that he looked like he had aged a decade since he had last seen him. "_Due to the public nature of this case most details are already known. I'm sure that by now you've all seen the video…Nightwing, the protector of our city, was involved in some kind of skirmish with several masked attackers. He was overwhelmed when a noxious gas was released and quickly became unconscious. We then saw him dragged into a vehicle which soon left the scene, and he has not been seen or heard from since." _Gordon paused, seemingly considering something before continuing. "_I do not know why his assailant decided to make the video of his attack public, perhaps it was to intimidate the people of Gotham by making it known that their hero has been abducted. I am not sure, but we are working our hardest to get to the bottom of this case. Nightwing has done a lot for our city, most notably in the fall out and clean up after the occupation we suffered just one year ago where our former hero, Batman, tragically lost his life to save this city. We will honour Nightwing's service to Gotham by continuing to do our best to locate him and bring his attacker to justice. Thank you." _

"_That was Commissioner Gordon bringing us the latest news on the Nightwing case, thank you commissioner." _ Bruce frowned as the broadcast ended, looking down at his coffee that he had yet to start. The café bustled with noise around him, many people discussing the broadcast and marvelling that the superhero 'Nightwing' had been defeated.

So, Blake had been captured. His stomach roiled slightly at the thought – when he had left the batcave and the Nightwing suit for John to find after his disappearance, he had not planned on the boy being defeated and captured before even a year had passed. There had been no major threats in Gotham since Bane, and the city had finally been rebuilding and returning to its former glory. The most he had banked on Nightwing having to deal with was corrupt cops and any leftover gang members that had escaped prosecution after Bane's occupation. Clearly that was not the case.

Bruce sighed, and shook his head slightly. It wasn't for him to worry about anymore. Gotham was in his past, and he never intended to return. He had faked his death for a reason after all, the city needed to continue on without him (and he needed to continue without the city).

But at the same time, he couldn't help feeling guilty for his part in what had befallen the honourable young cop, John Blake. His actions during Bane's occupation and defeat had impressed him, he could think of no one better to take up the mantle of batman then John Blake. And so he had left Wayne manor to the orphans, and hidden instructions for Blake to find in order to locate the batcave. He had left him a suit, and a name, and an invitation to carry on where he had left off. And now, it appeared, he had led him to be captured and possibly killed.

"Gordon's on the case. He'll find him." He muttered to himself, standing up and abandoning his now cold coffee. "It has nothing to do with me. There is absolutely _no_ reason for me to go back there. None." He was happy here, away from Gotham. He was happy here on his own. Or at least, that was what he tried to tell himself…the same way that he tried to tell himself that he _hadn't_ been looking for an excuse to return to his home ever since he had left.

….

It was somewhat with a sense of déjà vu that Bruce dropped down onto the veranda, soundlessly landing and surprising the man already standing there. Gordon's eyes widened impossibly as he took a hasty step back. "Who…what?" He gasped. "_Batman?_" he breathed incredulously. "You're _dead!"_

"Apparently not." Bruce smiled ruefully under the mask, waiting for the commissioner to adjust.

"I knew it!" Gordon said finally, a smile breaking out on his weathered face. "I always said I thought you had made it…I just didn't know how." Gordon paused, waiting for an explanation.

Bruce did not oblige. "Nightwing." He said firmly, crossing his arms. "Tell me everything."

Gordon shook his head slightly. "Of course, the broadcast. Well, there's not much else to tell. We haven't found anything at all. No evidence, no leads."

"Nothing at all?" Bruce frowned.

Gordon smiled. "Well, actually, now that you mention it…" He fished around in his pocket for a second, before pulling out a folded piece of paper inside a small plastic bag. "We found this at the scene. Didn't really know what to make of it, thought maybe it just meant that whoever has Blake knows about his connection to you." He pulled the paper out and unfolded it, on the inside in dark ink was the symbol of a bat.

"Interesting." Bruce took the paper from Gordon, studying it carefully. "Whoever has him knows I'm alive then."

Gordon nodded. "Possibly…do you think they took him to bait you out?"

"Could be." Bruce grunted, turning the paper over. "Nothing else?"

Gordon shook his head. "Nothing. The scene was completely clean, my guess is it was thoroughly wiped between the attack and when the video was leaked." Bruce nodded, already turning to leave.

"Are you back in Gotham for good now?" Gordon asked, hope colouring his words.

"No." Bruce snapped. "Just visiting." And he _was_ just visiting, he knew. He couldn't return to Gotham. He turned to leave once more.

"Bruce!" He stopped, turning back to face Gordon, who was looking slightly pained. "Thank you. What you did…you saved us all."

"It's Batman, Bruce is still dead." Bruce said firmly, starting to turn away. "And so is Batman, to everyone but you." He said finally, before disappearing in the night.

Gordon sighed, still looking where he had last been. "Be careful Bruce."

….

Returning to the cave was a strange experience – it was a place he had thought never to return, and yet here he was. The sense of nostalgia washed over him as he entered, the entrance through the manor was obviously out of the question and so Bruce found himself abseiling in through the waterfall, incredibly reminiscent of his very first entry into the cave. His heart jumped in his chest the moment he landed as an odd feeling resonated within him. He was home. But no, he wasn't, because this wasn't home anymore. Shaking a little excess water out of his hair, he pushed those unwanted thoughts away and quickly made his way to the central desk. Thankfully, it was set up exactly how he left it – whether Nightwing had just found no use for his equipment or whether he had left it out of respect for its former owner Bruce did not know, but he was grateful to find it unchanged.

He took a seat and sat for a moment, before pulling out the small piece of paper and unfolding it in front of him. He studied the marking carefully – there was no doubt that it was his symbol, almost identical to the one that decorated the light at the police station. It looked to be drawn in plain ink, there was nothing obvious about the ink that stood out to him as a possible clue.

Finally he turned it over, and studied the other side carefully. Nothing. There was nothing printed on the other side at all, just blank paper. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. There had to be something here, the note was obviously left on purpose, and why leave a note that said nothing?

He eyed the equipment beside him, wondering if any of Lucius's creations might find something he had missed. Finally he decided it was worth a try, and placed the paper into one of the machines. This particular machine was made to analyse the chemical compounds of whatever was put into it, if nothing else he hoped it might provide some insight into the noxious gas used to overwhelm Nightwing, assuming the paper had been at the scene an exposed to the gas at the time of the attack.

He waited for a few minutes while the machine did its work, and finally took it out at the long beep that emitted from the machine. His eyes fell to the screen as he waited for the chemical read out, before widening in surprise. The readout showed high levels of a chemical compound on the reverse side of the paper. By the 3D imagery provided by the readout it was clear that the chemical was in fact not the gas used to knock out Nightwing, but a liquid that had been deliberately applied to the blank side of the paper. But why?

He quickly scrolled down the screen to the bottom of the readout, and stopped on the section labelled 'Chemical reactions'. Under the heading there was only one item listed: Human blood. It went on to say that the chemical found on the paper was known to have a chemical reaction when in contact with human blood cells. This reaction rendered the chemical useless and could reverse its effects.

Bruce suddenly knew what to do – without hesitation he quickly sliced a small cut into his palm, and allowed the blood to fall onto the paper. He waited tensely, scrutinising the paper for any changes. At first nothing happened, but after a few moments a yellow colour slowly began to spread across the paper, turning orange as it mixed with the blood. After it stopped changing Bruce wiped the paper clean, and was able to make out very faint writing beneath the orange stain. He squinted, but was unable to read it. Finally he pulled a microscope over to him and placed it underneath. The words magnified and became clear.

"New York, NY." He muttered, turning the paper over again to see the bat symbol once more. "But what does that mean? Is that where they have him?" He frowned before wiping what was left of the blood on his hand onto the side of the paper that held the bat symbol, hoping there would be more to the cryptic message. He waited several moments, but nothing happened.

He sighed, shaking his head. This was becoming a case worthy of a headache already – a missing superhero, a clue left presumably just for him, and all he had was the name of a city.

…

Getting to New York was the easy part – figuring out what to do from there was a bit more complicated. With virtually no other clues, all Bruce could really do was go there and look around a bit, and hope to find something useful. It wasn't much to go on at _all_, and it left Bruce feeling rather futile as he wandered around night after night. He stepped in on a few scuffles, stopped a few muggings, and just generally tried to keep busy, all the while looking for anything and everything that might be connected to the Nightwing case. So far he had found absolutely nothing. New York was a strange city, like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had trouble trying to put it into words, but the most he could describe was a weird _feeling_. If cities had souls, then Bruce would say that the soul of New York was an angry one. It always felt cold, empty, sometimes even heartless. It was not a pleasant feeling, and it kept Bruce on edge.

New York was also surprisingly low in crime, and so as a result bored was a state Bruce often found himself in while 'on duty' at night. He never really stopped to think about _why_ there was such a low crime rate in one of the busiest cities in America, but nonetheless he quickly realised that it was something he _should _have been thinking about when the answer quite literally dropped out of the sky beside him one night.

He had been crouching on top of a rooftop, scanning the city for any potential law breaking when a large metal shape had landed beside him, almost sending him tumbling off the roof in surprise. His eyebrow rose almost of its own accord as he took in the sight that greeted him, a man made entirely of red and gold metal was standing before him, with his arms crossed and looking a little pissed off. _Right._ The revelation hit him like a tonne of bricks. Iron Man. The Avengers. Of course. New York's own band of superhero's – how had Bruce forgotten about them?

To be fair he _had_ had other things on his mind, but after a whole week in New York it _probably_ should have occurred to him that oh, right, _Avengers._ And standing in front of him now, making him realise all this in the space of about three seconds, was Tony Stark AKA Iron Man, and he looked annoyed.

"Batman." Iron Man said flatly, arms still crossed. "Are you lost?" Voice modulator or not, the sarcastic tone still came through loud and clear.

Bruce grunted, also folding his arms somewhat defiantly. "Tony Stark." He said in his trademark batman growl.

"_What_ are you doing here?" He sounded slightly exasperated now, "and while we're on the subject, aren't you supposed to be _dead?_"

Bruce shrugged slightly. "I got better." He offered no response to the 'why' part of his question.

Iron Man paused for a moment, before deactivating the face plate of his suit. It slowly slid away revealing the sharp face and goatee of Tony Stark. "Right." Tony said, disbelief colouring his words. "Well, time to go now, this is _my _city. Go find your own." He frowned, looking up slightly. "Jeez you're a big guy aren't you. You're gonna give a guy a sore neck."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his glare deepening slightly. "I have brief business here. I have no intention of staying in _your_ city," he stepped forward slightly, bringing himself closer to Tony with an assertive air. "If you agree to stay out of my way, I'll agree to stay out of yours."

Tony snorted, taking his own step forward and placing himself just inches away from Bruce's still scowling face. "And what business does _Batman_ have in New York? Did you lose your little clown friend again?" He taunted, eyes glittering.

Bruce bristled, not appreciating the reference to the Joker's (unfortunately highly televised) most recent escape just a few years ago, in which he had attempted to terrorise Chicago until Bruce had dragged him back to Gotham. Again. "No." He growled, "The Joker is safely imprisoned. I am here on personal business."

"Whew, glad to know he's imprisoned again. Because, you know, he's only escaped six other times from your little Gotham prisons. Here in New York we do things _properly." _Tony joked, his glare betraying his lack of real humour. "Now you listen Bat," he started, uncrossing his arms. "I'm willing to let this whole thing go. Walk away. You just run along out of my city and we don't have a problem, you and me."

"I can't do that." Bruce growled. "I must remain in this city until I find what I'm looking for."

Tony scowled, his face plate sliding back down to cover his face. "Then you better watch your back. This is my territory and I don't take well to giant, grumpy, flying rats coming in to cause problems in my city. This is no Gotham, we don't get those breeds of crazies here – and you'd better not be bringing any with you or there'll be hell to pay." With that warning, Tony turned around activating his repulsors almost instantly. Within seconds he was flying through the sky, heading back towards the centre of the city.

…

The second encounter Bruce had with Tony Stark was a little different to the first. This time he had dropped in on Bruce while he was taking care of some carjackers over in Queens. It had started with only the two, just kids really, but apparently these kids had friends and their friends had guns. It had turned into a slight skirmish, with Bruce finding himself defending against five angry, heavily armed thugs. He nevertheless had been winning the fight (one small bullet hole to the shoulder not withstanding, just a graze really) and had not needed Stark's help. At all. And yet the cocky man in the suit of metal had jumped into the battle, and with his impressive repulsors, quickly ended it.

Bruce winced a bit, his hand jumping to his shoulder in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Stark was quickly at his side, and he had the absolute _audacity_ to look _concerned. _"You okay there Bats?" He was fiddling with some sort of scanner, and pointing it in Bruce's direction. "Hold still and let me scan it." He snapped when Bruce tried to push it out of the way. "Looked like you were drowning a little there, thought you could use a hand."

"I was fine." Bruce growled, shoving him away for the second time. "Would you _stop!"_ He snapped, glaring at the strange device wielding Iron Man.

"Would you relax already, jeez it's just a medical scanner. You're wound tighter than Fury before his morning coffee, and _that's_ saying something." Tony frowned, glancing at the device. "Says you took quite a hit, through and through in your right shoulder."

"I'm fine." Bruce repeated, containing a wince. "I didn't need your help."

"Right." Tony crossed his arms. "Could have fooled me, or did you _mean_ to get shot, cornered and almost disabled?"

Bruce swiftly ignored the insult. "What are you doing here anyway? What happened to the whole alpha male pissing match you seemed so determined to have the other night?"

Tony shrugged. "Well I wasn't about to let you _die, _even if you are trespassing in my city. It's kind of, you know, the whole superhero thing. Saving people and all that. Even occasionally other superheros, cats stuck in trees, over grown bats with bullet wounds, you know how it is. You know, you should really repeal the whole 'no guns' thing. Don't know how you expect to keep up with us real superheroes, the firepower in my hand repulsors _alone_ is-"

"Are you _done?"_ Bruce growled, turning away from the blathering idiot that was Tony Stark.

"Hey!" Tony snapped, offended. "A little thanks for saving your life would be appreciated. I've got better things to be doing then saving your ass from a couple of thugs who learnt to steal a car playing Grand Theft Auto. I mean, let's be honest, they weren't _ever_ getting into that thing." He motioned to the Lamborghini parked beside them that admittedly was not even scratched.

"I'm done with this." Bruce turned, making it clear that he was leaving this conversation.

"And get yourself to a hospital or something!" Tony shouted from behind him. "Don't wanna be cleaning up your dead ass from some rooftop in the morning!" A rude gesture was all the response Bruce bothered with before disappearing into the night.

…

The third time, it was _Tony_ who ran into Bruce - quite literally. The nights were still long and relatively uninteresting, despite having now spent over a month in New York he had turned up absolutely nothing in the Nightwing case and there wasn't a whole lot else to do in this strangely empty city. And if there wasn't much to do at night, then there _definitely _wasn't a lot to do during the day, and so Bruce had started frequenting a coffee shop that had free wifi he could connect his laptop to and start looking for clues online. He hadn't managed to find out much about who had originally posted the youtube video of Nightwing's kidnapping that had gone viral, but then again he was no master computer hacker. So far all he had managed to get was that the IP address was blocked and the user was untraceable.

He sighed in frustration, closing the lid of his computer. He was starting to think he was going to need to bring someone in on this case, someone who might be able to trace the origin of the video further then what he could do himself with his admittedly limited skills.

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted as the serenity of the usually quiet coffee shop was broken by the bang of the door as it was thrown open. He looked up to see an impeccably dressed man enter, his suit reeking of expense with a smart phone pressed to his ear. "No Pepper, we need the _Egyptian_ ones." He was saying, loudly. "No they _won't!_ What do you – no,_ I_ will know, that's who!"

Bruce signed, recognising him at once as Tony Stark, bane of his existence in New York. Many of the other patrons traded glances, clearly unhappy about the interruption. Tony, true to form, didn't seem to care and continued his incredibly loud conversation all the way to the counter , only stopping briefly to bark an order at the barista.

Bruce frowned as he picked up his coffee and his laptop, deciding to give it a break for now and try again later. He had just turned abruptly towards the door when a large form whacked in to him, spilling his coffee all over his shirt. "What the-" Bruce turned abruptly, only to find Tony Stark standing apologetically behind him.

"God, I'm so sorry!" Tony said quickly, eyes wide. "I'll call you back Pep," he said into the phone, before hanging it up and replacing it in his pocket. He quickly grabbed some napkins and offered them to Bruce. "I didn't see you."

Bruce glared, feeling the coffee soak uncomfortably through to his skin. "Are you serious?" He sighed, "This was my favourite shirt." His only shirt, rather. His daytime clothes weren't exactly extensive these days.

"I apologise." Tony frowned. "But you did kind of come out of nowhere."

A vein in Bruce's forehead started to tick. "Are you kidding me? I've been here the whole time. Perhaps you were just too caught up in your incredibly _loud_ conversation to notice that there are other people on this planet besides yourself!"

Stark paused for a second, seeming to squint. "Wait, do I know you?"

Bruce's heart jumped slightly, before settling. He couldn't possibly recognise him, the only thing visible in his mask was his jaw. "No." He said firmly, starting to turn away.

Stark grabbed his arm, spinning him back around. "Wait yes I do! It's Bruce right? Bruce Wayne? We met at that fundraiser that time. With the fountains? Tony Stark." He added, as if Bruce hadn't known, and held out his hand. "I heard you were dead!"

Bruce sighed, he felt like it was becoming a habit around Stark. "Oh, right." He said. "Yeah, I remember you. And no, I didn't die. Obviously."

"Look, I'm really sorry about your shirt, ok? I'm an ass. Let me buy you another one and you can tell me about how you didn't die." Tony apparently didn't require an answer, as he was already striding back to the counter and demanding another of whatever Bruce had ordered earlier. Bruce reluctantly took his seat again, wondering how he could make his escape without being rude.

When Tony returned he placed the coffee in front of him, sipping his own as he did so. "So, not dead? Is there a story there?"

Bruce shrugged. "Not really. I left Gotham right before the occupation," He ignored the familiar twinge that often accompanied any mention of his old city. "I guess when I wasn't there afterwards it was assumed that I had died there. Many people did. I just never bothered to correct them."

Tony leaned forward, looking interested as he mentioned the occupation. "Interesting. So you don't know anything else about what happened there?" Bruce frowned, not sure what he was getting at. "I just mean, the whole thing seemed kind of dodge. Like they weren't telling us the whole story. They forbid us from going anywhere near it you know, us superheros I mean." He paused for a second. "We thought we could help but they were worried the bomb would be set off if any of us went anywhere near the place."

"It probably would have been." Bruce confirmed. "That Bane guy, he wasn't fucking around. A friend of mine is a cop who was there through the whole thing, he told me it was only seconds away from going off in the end. He was going to kill everyone."

"But Batman saved the day." Tony murmured with a smile. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"I guess…" Bruce said hesitantly, not liking where this was going.

"What, you don't like Batman?" Tony laughed. "I thought all you Gothamites loved the guy."

Bruce pursed his lips. "Not all." He said finally.

"Hmm." Tony hummed. "Well I think it's impressive, I mean here's a guy with no powers, just some crazy ass martial arts skills. I mean, he doesn't even have any decent weaponry, and he still holds his own." He grinned suddenly before adding, "Most of the time anyway."

"I suppose." Bruce said noncommittally, trying to think of a way to change the subject. Luckily, he didn't need to.

"Oh!" Tony said suddenly. "I should go, I'm supposed to be on my way to some benefit thing. You know how they go." He rolled his eyes. "Hey, you should come! Make a big Bruce Wayne is back from the dead re-entrance to society. I love those!"

Bruce shook his head. "I was kind of planning to stay dead, if you get my drift. Didn't really think I'd be recognised out here." He said with a frown.

"Right!" Tony pointed his hand like a gun and clicked. "Gotcha, keep it on the DL and all that."

"I would appreciate that." Bruce confirmed with a small smile.

"Well I should be going, nice seeing you, we should do lunch some time!" Bruce nodded vaguely. "Great! I'll have Pepper call you or something."

"Uh…" Bruce began. "I don't exactly have a phone. Just…I'm here often, I'm sure we'll run into each other." He said grudgingly.

"Alright, later Wayne." Tony waggled his fingers over his shoulder, before finally leaving the coffee shop. Bruce was left feeling like he had survived a hurricane.


End file.
